Cross Country
by dalex.allen
Summary: Derek needs to go to New York on pack business; Stiles wants to get out of the house. So they drive across the country together. Set after 2x12. Rated for sexual content.


ROADTRIP AU STEREK

"No. No way."

"Come on, Derek," Stiles said, trying to block Derek's exit. "It'll be fun!"

"No one could ever convince me that driving across the country with you is fun." He could easily shove Stiles out of the way, but he didn't really want to.

"It's a road trip, Derek!"

"It's pack business. You're not in the pack."

"Someone's gotta keep an eye on you."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "And that someone should be you because…?"

Stiles stumbled over his words, trying to think of an answer. "Because…would you rather listen to Scott moan about Allison?"

"Those are my two choices? You and Scott?"

"Come on, Derek, it'll be fun! I promise. I'll look up cool attractions on the way and I'll even chip in for gas, if you want—"

"You won't shut up until you get your way, will you?" Stiles shook his head; Derek sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. But," he continued as Stiles pumped a fist in the air, "if you piss me off, I will kick you out of the car and leave you on the road. Understood?"

"Absolutely. I'll go pack my stuff and look up a route."

He ran off; Derek watched him climb into his Jeep and drive away. He exhaled slowly; why had he let Stiles convince him? He had to go to New York to meet with a wolf pack he'd known when he lived there after the fire. He couldn't be sure the Alpha pack wouldn't attack in his absence, but he trusted Isaac and Scott to be able to defend themselves and the town. It would be nice to have company on the long drive, though. Even if the company was Stiles. He hated the loss of control that came with flying so he decided to drive, and Scott decided to tell Stiles.

It wasn't that he hated Stiles; he actually enjoyed his company most times. But to drive across the country, in a trip that he'd already planned to take seven days there and seven days back, would be torture. It didn't help that his mind would wander when thinking about Stiles, wander to ideas and impulses that he hadn't let control him in a long time.

After listening to Stiles' speech on exactly which attractions he wanted to see, Derek packed up his car and went over a checklist; he had everything. He promised to pick up Stiles after lunch tomorrow. He didn't get much sleep; just like last time he'd traveled to New York, he was nervous. Trips were still exciting to him, even after everything he's been through.

Derek ate lunch the next day on the way to Stiles' house. He knew the Sheriff would be out, because Stiles didn't want his dad to see him in the car with Derek. Stiles came out of his house with a duffel bag and a backpack. Derek had talked him out of bringing more by telling him that the driver got the most space. The plan today was to reach Reno, which would take about four hours.

"So," Stiles said, hopping in the passenger seat and buckling up, "what's the music situation gonna look like?"

"Music?" Derek said, driving toward the freeway. "I don't listen to music when I drive."

"Dude!" Stiles looked horrified. "You want to sit, in silence, as we drive across the country? Listening to me talk for seven days straight?"

Derek pursed his lips. "I reserve the right to skip any song you pick."

"Sweet, thanks." He pulled out a cord and connected his iPod.

"What did you tell your dad you were doing, anyway?"

"Visiting family. I've already emailed my cousin, he says he'll cover for me."

"And if you decide to post something on Facebook about our trip?"

"Oh, well, my dad thinks I'm on this trip with my cousin."

Derek rolled his eyes, trying not to think of all the ways that plan could go wrong. He didn't want to be on the Sheriff's bad side any more than he already was. It was such a mistake to bring Stiles along. No one would miss Derek, but there were a lot of people who would miss Stiles.

They stopped at a rest stop two hours into the drive, still in California. Stiles had brought two cans of soda and finished them both, and now had to pee. Derek sat in the car waiting for him, trying to get the annoying song that had just been playing out of his head. He looked over the map again, even though they were still on the freeway for most of the drive.

"Can I drive?" Stiles asked as he climbed back in the car.

"Hell no."

"Come on, Derek. You'll get tired!"

Derek glared at him, eyes flicking for a moment down to Stiles' crotch, where the zipper was still undone. "Check your fly before you leave a bathroom."

Stiles blushed fiercely and zipped himself up. He didn't bring up driving again until they'd reached the hotel in Reno. Derek had made advance reservations in every hotel, luckily after Stiles had joined the trip so they all had two beds. He couldn't imagine sharing a bed with Stiles. He'd sooner die.

"Which bed do you want?" Stiles asked when Derek opened the door.

"Either. Doesn't matter."

"When do you normally shower?"

"I don't know. Whenever."

"And when can I drive?"

"Never."

"Derek—"

"My car. My rules. I can leave you here, if you like. Drive off without you."

Stiles huffed and sat on one of the beds. "I'm a good driver."

"I don't care. It's my car."

"Driving for, like, seven hours a day can get exhausting."

"Stiles. My car. My rules." He tossed his duffel bag on the remaining bed. "Where do you want to eat dinner?"

Stiles shrugged. "Whatever you think looks good, I guess."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'll go pick up some fast food. Stay here, and stay out of my stuff." He left before Stiles could respond.

In all honesty, Derek wouldn't have minded going out to dinner with Stiles, but he didn't want people to assume they were dating. Getting fast food was much easier. He also needed alone time to deal with the semi-erection he'd been sporting for two hours. As soon as he was in the car, he closed his eyes and let images of Stiles cross his mind. His growing dick pressed against the restraints of his pants.

"Dammit," he mumbled, undoing his jeans and pulling himself out. "I do not like him." He stroked himself until he was close to coming, then reached for the paper towels he kept in the glove box. "This is hormones," he tried to convince himself, coming with a slight groan into the paper towels. He bundled up the cleaning supplies and reached over to put them in the garbage bag.

Derek returned to the room after picking up McDonald's, struggling to open the door with his hands full of food. Stiles opened the door for him.

"Oh, hey," he said, heart racing. "I was wondering when you'd get back."

"What did you do?" Derek asked, putting the food on the dresser.

"What? Nothing." His heart beat faster.

"I can hear your heart, Stiles, I know you're lying. What did you do?"

Derek looked around the room, noticing his duffel bag had moved a few inches. Glaring at Stiles, he opened it and saw his bag of cash on the top.

"I just wanted to know how you were buying gas and hotels and—"

"Stiles, dammit, I told you not to touch my stuff!"

"I was suspicious!"

"I had nine family members die, I have plenty of life insurance policies."

Stiles' face drained of color. "Oh, God. I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Didn't think, I know. Have I satisfied your curiosity?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry." Stiles grabbed his food and sat on his bed, looking incredibly ashamed. Derek grabbed his own food and ate on his bed, trying not to listen to Stiles' heartbeat. He should've brought Stiles along to get the food, so he wasn't sitting alone in a room with stuff he couldn't touch. No, that's making excuses for him. He shouldn't have been a nosy SOB.

"I pay in cash so the hunters can't find me," Derek said after about twenty minutes of silent eating. "I should've told you, because I know you're nosy."

"I shouldn't be so nosy."

"But you are. And I should've anticipated that."

Stiles shrugged, tossing his wrapper in the trash. "I should've…I mean, my dad got the life insurance for my mom, and I should know."

Derek had momentarily forgotten that Stiles' mom was dead; the thought depressed him. He didn't want Stiles to know the pain he knew. He didn't want Stiles to know pain at all.

"Do you want to watch TV?" Stiles asked, grabbing the remote.

"Sure. Whatever's on is fine."

Stiles settled with some dumb cop show, while Derek pulled out a book. It was a book that Laura had tried to get him to read when she was alive, but he never got around to it. So he was reading it now.

"What's your book about?" Stiles asked.

"Just a book."

"But what's it about? Who's the author?"

Derek glared at him. "It's a book Laura recommended to me."

"Laura? Your sister?" Derek nodded. "Oh. Sorry."

"Just watch your show and shut up."

Instead of obeying, Stiles turned off the TV and turned his body to face Derek. "I don't want to fight for the whole week."

"Then stop being stupid."

"I didn't know it was your sister's book—"

"I'm talking about everything, Stiles! No stupid music, no stupid snooping, no stupid TV shows, and no stupid questions!"

"I can put my earbuds in, if it bothers you that much."

"_You_ bother me."

Stiles frowned, his overly-expressive eyes showing his pain. Derek immediately regretted saying it, but he couldn't take it back now.

"I'm going to change," Stiles said, grabbing pajamas from his bag and locking himself in the bathroom.

Derek threw the book across the room, where it hit the wall before landing on his bag. Stiles just pushed all the wrong buttons and wouldn't stop pushing even when Derek threatened violence. It was not something he was used to. And he couldn't help but admit to himself that it turned him on.

Stiles came out of the bathroom, put his dirty clothes in a different bag, and crawled under his covers. He was facing away from Derek.

"Stiles."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Stiles turned over. "Those words are in your vocabulary?"

"I'm apologizing, Stiles, you don't need to be a smartass about it."

"Fine. Accepted. Good night."

"Stiles, I'm serious. Okay? I don't want to fight all week either."

"Can I play my music?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Thanks."

Derek nodded, grabbing his own pajamas and going to the bathroom. While he was changing, he noticed Stiles had left his boxers on the floor. Oh, no. He was getting hard again. He tried to think about something else but his hand was acting of his own accord and grabbed the discarded boxers. These were touching Stiles in an intimate way, his dick had rubbed against this. Derek raised it to his nose and breathed in; it smelled musky and he could detect the slight hint of semen. He was too hard now, it wouldn't be a good idea to go to sleep like this. So he jerked off, trying to muffle the sound of his groan as he came. Then he flushed the toilet and finished changing, bringing Stiles' underwear out with him.

"You left this," he said in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"Oh, shit," Stiles said, blushing and grabbing the boxers. "Thanks."

Derek got into bed, turning off the lights and resting his head on the pillow.

"Good night," Stiles said.

"Night."

"Sleep well."

"Shut up."

"Sweet dreams."

"Stiles, I swear to God."

"Sorry." He paused. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Derek grabbed his phone and threw it at Stiles, who laughed.

"Stiles!" Derek said loudly, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Yeah?" Stiles shouted over the sound of the shower.

"You don't have any hair, what the hell is taking you so long?"

"Morning ritual! I'll be out in, like, ten minutes!"

"Ten minutes? What the hell are you doing in there?"

"Really wanna know?"

Derek thought for a second and realized what Stiles must be doing. "Jesus Christ, Stiles! I still have to shower!"

"If you keep talking to me, it'll take longer!"

Derek rolled his eyes, sitting back on his bed. He should've showered first. They were going to leave late. Which meant they'd arrive late. And Stiles would probably want to stop for food more than normal, and stop for bathroom breaks, and why the hell did he let Stiles come along?

The shower stopped, finally, but Derek knew Stiles would have to brush his teeth and all that annoying stuff. So he sat on his bed, waiting and thinking. In the last twenty-four hours, Derek has jerked off to the thought of Stiles twice. That's the highest concentration since…since before Kate, if he's honest with himself. He couldn't do it with anyone else, not after her, not after the fire. Hell, he'd barely touched himself in six years. And now, Stiles comes along and—

"Dude, shower's ready." Stiles was standing in the middle of the room, hair still slightly wet from the shower (not that he had much hair to get wet). He was still shirtless and Derek had to physically force his eyes away from Stiles' chest. He really had a problem. He went into the bathroom and leaned against the closed door, breathing heavily. How was he supposed to last a week with this kid?

After he finished showering, they checked out of the hotel and grabbed breakfast at Denny's. Then they began the approximately seven hour drive to Salt Lake City, where they would be staying tonight. After lunch, Stiles fell asleep for about two hours, but woke up when he had to pee. And then he wasn't tired anymore.

"So, Derek," he said, turning the music down slightly, "how are you?"

"Really, Stiles?"

"It's a legitimate question."

"I'm fine."

"Just fine?"

"I'm wonderful, Stiles, now shut up." The traffic was getting heavier and Derek needed to concentrate.

"I had this really strange dream last night. We were driving down a dark road and then this…thing comes out of the woods and you swerve to avoid it and crash into a tree and we both die. But then, we're in this heaven-like place and Kate Argent's there—"

Derek swerved slightly, staring at Stiles.

"Dude, pay attention to the road."

"Kate was there?"

"Yeah, she was just…standing there. Smiling at you. It was really creepy."

Derek tried to calm down, tried to think about anything else, but that dream scared him. Stiles didn't know about Kate, he couldn't, not unless Kate herself told him. Which was unlikely, since they never had any one-on-one interactions.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, staring at Derek with a worried expression.

"No."

"What's up?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Did Kate do anything else in the dream?"

Stiles thought for a second. "No. Just smiled at you. And…touched you. Like, your chest and stuff."

Derek felt sick, memories rising up, memories of the sex they had and the fire and he was gripping the steering wheel so hard it might break at any minute.

"Dude, calm down," Stiles said. "It was just a dream."

"That's what you think."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Not here. Not like this." He saw a sign for a rest stop and hurriedly switched lanes to get off there. He parked as far from the other cars as possible and got out of the car, pacing in circles. Stiles got out of the car and watched him, the same worried expression on his face.

"I was young," Derek said. "Stupid. Naïve. And she was…she was a beautiful older woman who…who wanted me."

"Are you saying—?"

"Yes, Stiles. I slept with her. She didn't tell me she was a hunter, I just thought…I don't know what I thought, Stiles. And she…she used me to get close to my family and…"

"Burned your house down," Stiles finished. Derek nodded. "Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No one knew. You're the only person alive who knows, besides myself."

They were silent for a minute, Derek still pacing, Stiles just standing by the car.

"It's not your fault," Stiles said.

"Of course it is, I should've been smarter, I led her straight to them—"

"But Kate killed them. Not you."

"She wouldn't have been able to if it weren't for my stupidity."

"She was evil, dude. She would've found a way—"

"Just shut up, okay? You don't understand."

"Yeah, I do."

"No!" Derek shouted, stepping closer to Stiles. "You have no clue what it's like to have the blood of your own family on your hands!"

Stiles didn't seem afraid even when Derek stood almost nose-to-nose with him. "Yeah, I do. I killed my mother."

"What?"

Stiles' eyes were angry now. "I can't explain it. But I killed my mother. She's dead because of me. So don't say I don't know what you're feeling. Cuz I do." He turned, climbed back in the car, and put in earbuds to listen to his iPod.

Derek took a deep breath. Stiles wasn't lying; he really believed he'd killed his mother. That might just be the saddest thing Derek's ever heard. He got back in the car and started driving again. There was still about an hour until they reached Salt Lake City, and Derek wasn't sure if he could tolerate the tension in the car. He even found himself wishing that Stiles would talk, which surprised him. Why had he told him about Kate? He'd never told anyone about Kate, not even Peter. Maybe it was about trust, but there was something else. He felt a…connection with Stiles, something that he couldn't explain.

As he was pulling off the freeway in Salt Lake City, Stiles pulled out his earbuds. "Sorry," he said.

"Don't be."

"We're both pretty messed up, huh?"

Derek snorted. "You could say that."

"I'm hungry. Where are we eating?"

Derek glanced at Stiles, feeling something well up in his chest. "Sonic. They've got really great food."

"Do they have curly fries?"

"No."

"I want to go somewhere with curly fries."

"Arby's has curly fries."

"Then let's go to Arby's."

Derek glared at him. "Who's driving?"

"Who's more annoying?"

Derek rolled his eyes, pulling into a parking lot and pulling out his phone to search for a nearby Arby's. There was one only a few blocks ahead.

"Thanks," Stiles said as they started driving again.

"Sure."

"Can we eat in?"

"Sure."

"Sweet."

While they were eating, Derek could hear some of the patrons whispering about them, asking their table partners if those two boys were dating. It took all his self-control to not yell at them. Whatever he'd felt in the car, that odd feeling that had risen in his chest, it was back and he couldn't help but stare at Stiles, hoping nothing was showing in his eyes. Stiles was too immersed in his curly fries to notice anything.

"You look angry," Stiles said as they were leaving.

"People are stupid."

"Yeah, but what are you angry about?"

"So many people in that restaurant were wondering if we were dating."

Stiles, who had taken a drink from his water bottle, choked. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. About five different tables were talking about us."

They drove to the hotel and checked in, bringing their stuff inside. This room was slightly smaller, but still had the requisite two beds, so Derek didn't mind.

"I'm showering tonight," Derek said. "So we don't have any more delays."

"Sorry, dude, but it's something I've done every shower since I was twelve."

"Too much information, Stiles."

"Come on, don't tell me you're one of those people who doesn't jerk off."

Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing his shower stuff and heading towards the bathroom.

"You are, aren't you?" Stiles said, blocking his path. "Is it because of some…belief that it makes you weak?"

"It's because my first sexual experience resulted in the death of my entire family."

Stiles blushed. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

"Can I shower now?" Stiles nodded and stepped aside.

After the shower, he found Stiles sitting on his bed and watching TV; today, it was Wheel of Fortune.

"You know," Stiles said as Derek sat on his own bed, "this is the farthest from home I've ever been."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I've actually never been out of California until yesterday."

"What a boring life."

"Shut up," Stiles said, laughing. Derek felt his stomach do an odd flip.

It took Derek far too long to fall asleep, as his head was filled with Stiles' laugh, and the fact that he had made Stiles laugh. This was the first time he was able to think about Stiles for a long time without getting hard, which worried him. Did this mean it was moving past a simple physical attraction? Was that the feeling that had risen in his chest? Affection?

Love?

Their next stop was Cheyenne, Wyoming, which was another seven-hour drive. They ate at Denny's again and started driving, but after lunch Derek started to get tired. He'd slept a good two hours less than he'd planned.

"Stiles," he said, pulling into a rest stop, "I need you to drive."

"What?"

"I didn't sleep well last night. I'm too tired to drive."

Stiles grinned, his whole face becoming more beautiful. "That's awesome! I mean, sorry you didn't sleep well, but this is gonna be great!"

"Just do it, okay? And let me sleep."

They switched places; Derek adjusted the passenger seat and rested his head against the window. He fell asleep as they were getting on the freeway.

When he woke up, the car wasn't moving. He could hear Stiles ruffling through paper. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, seeing that they were at a rest stop.

"Stiles."

Stiles jumped, dropping the maps in his lap. "Jesus Christ, Derek. Don't do that."

"Why aren't you driving?"

"Took a wrong turn, or something. I'm lost."

Derek rolled his eyes, grabbing the maps. "What was the last road sign?"

"It said 'Welcome to Colorado,'" Stiles said quietly.

"Colorado? Are you kidding me?"

"No. Sorry."

"How the fuck did we end up in Colorado?" Derek said to himself, simultaneously hating Stiles and finding this mishap adorable. "That's it, you're not driving for the rest of the trip."

"If you'd been awake, I wouldn't have messed up."

"If I'd been awake, you wouldn't be driving. Switch spots."

Derek somehow managed to get them back on course, but they'd lost about an hour and a half. When they finally got to Cheyenne, they were both starving, so they pulled into McDonald's and ate in the car.

"I wanna show you something when we get to the hotel," Stiles said as they left the parking lot.

"What is it?"

"Just a computer game."

After they checked in, Stiles pulled his computer out of his bag and started a game, blocking Derek's view.

"This game is called Slenderman," Stiles said, handing the computer to Derek. He explained the controls and then pressed the start button. "This is legitimately the scariest game in existence."

Derek walked around in the game, trying to find papers to collect, according to Stiles' instruction.

"This isn't that scary," he said after he picked up the first paper.

"Just you wait. Go that way, towards the house."

Derek moved towards an odd house, occasionally hearing noises in the game to his right. He aimed the camera that way.

"No, don't look around!" Stiles shouted, jumping slightly. "Just look forward!" Derek smiled at Stiles' fear but continued forward anyway. "Go right."

The screen started getting fuzzy, and Derek saw a tall figure in a suit at the end of the hallway. Stiles screamed and covered his face, but Derek just moved out of eyesight, his heart beating fast but dignity still intact.

"So, I take it I shouldn't go back in the house?"

"Are you crazy? Just run!"

Stiles' voice was cracking from fear and Derek just wanted to hug him tightly. He looked back at his screen and started walking towards the woods. The game was actually started to get a little tense. Suddenly, he turned left, and the Slenderman was just right in front of him, and the screen went fuzzy and Stiles screamed and Derek screamed and pushed the laptop away, where it fell to the ground and closed, ending the nightmare. Both of their hearts were pounding, Stiles was crouched next to the chair, and Derek was still shaking. Then the ridiculousness of the situation hit him, and he started laughing. Here he was, Derek Hale, Alpha, and he'd just screamed like a little girl at a video game. Stiles looked up at him, confused, but soon started laughing too.

"That was fun," Derek said as his heartbeat slowed.

"Easy for you to say."

"You play now."

"Hell no!"

"Too scared?"

"You screamed too, Derek, shut up!"

Derek laughed, patting Stiles on the shoulder. Even that little contact made his stomach flip. "Let's watch some TV before bed. Take our minds off the game."

Stiles nodded, picking up his computer and putting it in his bag. They watched some comedy shows before Derek decided it was time for bed, since they had an eight-hour drive to Omaha tomorrow. He showered, Stiles changed, and they climbed into their respective beds. They'd been lying in the dark only about ten minutes when Stiles spoke.

"Derek?"

"What?"

"I'm too…not scared, but…tense. I'm too tense to sleep."

"Then relax."

"I should clarify. I'm too tense to sleep alone."

"No."

"Derek, please."

"No way in hell."

"It's just one night."

Derek sighed. He was afraid of this as soon as Stiles said the game was scary. He didn't want to share a bed with Stiles because he didn't want Stiles to accidentally feel his boner. But what choice did he have? Stiles would probably want to stay up and talk if he couldn't sleep.

"Fine. One night. If you tell any of the pack, I will murder you."

"Thanks." Stiles got out of his bed and slid under the covers next to Derek, who was immediately hard. Stiles was so close, in just boxers and an undershirt, and Derek's mind wandered to all those places he wouldn't let it wander. But he couldn't jerk off, it would be too obvious if he excused himself to go to the bathroom now, so he just lay there and tried to sleep. Surprisingly, Stiles' steady breathing lulled him to sleep.

Derek was kissing Stiles, pressing him into the mattress, grinding his hardness against Stiles' crotch. He pulled down both of their boxers and licked Stiles' erection, which tasted so good, the precome so sweet. Then he moved up and kissed Stiles again, pressing his dick into Stiles' ass, enjoying the tight heat, he wouldn't last long like this, and sure enough, there was the tightening in his balls, he was so close—

"Derek?"

As he was ripped from the world of dreams, Derek was vaguely aware of the sticky mess in his boxers. And he was very aware of Stiles laying mere inches from him.

"Derek?" Stiles said again.

"What?" Derek responded, clenching his fist.

"Are you alright? You were groaning, sounded like you were sick or something."

He let out a breath of relief. Stiles was clueless. Thank God.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just…go shower."

"Okay." He got up and grabbed some clothes, heading into the bathroom. As soon as Derek heard the shower start, he was out of bed, stripping of the dirty boxers and grabbing a fresh pair. He buried the come-covered pair in his dirty laundry bag, extremely embarrassed even though no one was here to see it. He got dressed in silence, trying not to think too much about it.

When Stiles got out of the shower, they packed up and left, stopping to eat at Denny's before jumping on the freeway. Derek was really enjoying the routine of it, waking up and Stiles showering and eating at Denny's and driving and stopping for lunch and driving and the most enjoyable part was Stiles and Derek hated himself for saying that because it was so cheesy but it was true. He loved spending so much time with Stiles, sometimes talking but mostly just sitting, listening to music, watching TV, whatever. This was, perhaps, the happiest Derek's been in a long time.

They never played that computer game again, probably because Stiles didn't want to share a bed with Derek either. Nothing exciting happened until they reached Gary, Indiana, the next day. It had been another eight-hour drive, and Derek was so tired. He took a quick shower and started to get dressed before realizing he'd forgotten a shirt, so he left the bathroom shirtless.

Stiles was lying on the bed, watching TV, but his mouth dropped open when Derek came in. As tired as he was, Derek noticed Stiles' crotch bulge slightly. He pretended to ignore it and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on and flopping on his bed. Stiles gulped and excused himself to the bathroom. Derek listened intently as Stiles dropped his jeans and started stroking himself, his hand moving faster than Derek thought possible, and he heard Stiles' choked groan as he came. Then Stiles flushed the toilet and came back out in the room, face slightly red but otherwise giving no sign that he had just masturbated to the thought of his roommate. Derek watched him as he sat back on the bed.

"What?" Stiles said, his heart still racing from his orgasm.

Derek thought about kissing him, about pushing him into the mattress and fucking him raw, but he just shrugged and looked back at the TV.

He had another wet dream that night, which again escaped the notice of Stiles. They left for Youngstown, Ohio, which was only a six-and-a-half-hour drive. Stiles was oddly quiet.

"What's up?" Derek asked as they crossed the border into Ohio.

"What?"

"You're quiet. Too quiet. It's unnerving."

"Oh. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Just stuff, Derek, okay?" Stiles' voice was sharp, angry.

"Okay, calm down. I was just asking."

They barely talked during lunch. Derek could almost smell the shame on Stiles, but he could also smell the desire. And knowing that Stiles wanted him back, knowing the feeling was mutual, Derek could finally give it a name: love. He was in love with Stiles.

When they checked into the hotel, Derek left on the pretext of picking up dinner. He did grab food, but not before visiting a grocery store and buying condoms. He then thought for a second and went to a sex shop to buy lube. Can't be too careful.

When he got back, Stiles was watching TV. Derek handed him the food and stuffed the condoms and lube in the bedside drawer while Stiles was distracted. He knew that Stiles wouldn't look in that drawer.

After they finished eating, Derek let the food settle for an hour before speaking.

"I heard you the other day."

Stiles flushed, not looking Derek in the eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you jerk off, after you saw me shirtless."

Stiles blushed darker. "That wasn't—"

"It's okay, Stiles. It was…it was really hot."

Stiles looked extremely confused. Derek got up and kissed him, pressing him down into the mattress, straddling him. Although caught off guard, Stiles quickly reciprocated the kiss, brushing his hands down Derek's chest. Derek sat up to take off his shirt, and Stiles took off his, and Derek licked his chest and ran his teeth on Stiles' nipples, which made him groan and buck his hips upward. Derek moved down, pulling down Stiles' jeans and rubbing his palm through his boxers. Then he pulled the boxers down and licked Stiles, causing another groan. He tasted even better than in the dreams. He sucked until he knew Stiles was close, then pulled back to take off his own pants.

Pulling out a condom and lube from the drawer, Derek continued lightly stroking Stiles, keeping him on the very edge. He rolled on the condom and squeezed some lube onto his fingers, pressing a finger against Stiles' entrance.

"Be careful," Stiles gasped as Derek's first finger slid in. "I don't want it to hurt."

"I'll be careful," Derek whispered in his ear, moving his finger.

"Have you done this before?"

Derek paused, looking down at Stiles. "No. But I'll be careful. I promise."

He pressed another finger inside the smaller man, stretching in the most cautious way possible. Stiles' erection was shrinking, but Derek had anticipated that. After a few minutes, he pressed in another finger, curling them in an attempt to find Stiles' prostate. He never found it, or if he did, he didn't press hard enough.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Derek asked as he withdrew his fingers, squeezing more lube on his dick and Stiles' hole.

"Yeah. Just…be careful, please."

Derek pressed his head into Stiles, feeling his muscles give way to the intrusion. Stiles screwed up his face in pain, clutching Derek's arms. He pressed forward, stopping every inch or so to allow Stiles to relax. Even with the condom, this was the greatest feeling on earth. He was inside Stiles, inside the only person he's loved since Kate, and he knew it wouldn't turn out the same this time, he knew Stiles was good.

When he was up to the hilt, he paused, wondering if he should even try to make Stiles come while he was inside. He looked down at his partner, who never showed physical pain unless it was severe but who was showing it now, and decided it wouldn't happen.

"Okay," he said, leaning down to kiss Stiles, "I'm gonna move now. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles said.

Derek pulled back and thrust forward, regretting the speed as soon as he saw Stiles' face. But Stiles nodded, indicated that he should keep going, so he did, moving his hips in long strokes, thrusting into Stiles slightly harder each time. Holy fuck, this felt good. Amazing. Better than Kate. Why was he thinking about Kate? He was here, with Stiles, _inside_ Stiles, and he was about to come.

"I want you to come on me," Stiles said. How had he known? Whatever, Derek pulled out, yanked off the condom, and jerked himself until he was coming all over Stiles' chest, moaning his name. As the last of his come dripped onto the body below him, he leaned forward and kissed him, panting.

Before completely collapsing, Derek remembered that he hadn't gotten Stiles off yet, and he started to stroke him back to hardness. He was too tired to move down and suck him off, so he just jerked him until Stiles arched his back and came, shouting Derek's name. Then Derek collapsed next to him, sleep already threatening to engulf him. But he couldn't sleep, he had to clean up, so he got up and found the discarded condom, tossing it in the trash. Then he used tissues to clean up Stiles, and grabbed both of their clothes.

"It hurts to move," Stiles said as he pulled on his boxers and shirt.

"That'll only hurt for a bit, I think. That's what the websites said. Come here." Stiles sat next to him on the bed. Derek put his arm around him. "You can share my bed, if you want." Stiles laughed, nuzzling into Derek's shoulder. "God, I love you," Derek said before he could stop himself.

"What?" Stiles pulled back, a strange expression on his face.

"I didn't…I mean, I meant it, but—"

Stiles shut him up with a kiss. Then he crawled under the covers and turned off the light. Derek, shocked by the sudden change, crawled under the covers with him, putting an arm over him.

"I love you, too," Stiles whispered, too quiet for the average person to hear but loud enough for werewolves. Derek smiled, kissed Stiles' head, and fell asleep.

They woke up at the same time the next morning, knowing they still had a seven-hour drive to New York. While Stiles was showering, Derek packed the condoms and lube into his bag. If everything happened the way he wanted it to, they'd use all of the condoms and all of the lube before they got back to Beacon Hills.

Oh, man, Beacon Hills. How was he going to explain this to the pack? They'd know as soon as they smelled Stiles. Was he really willing to dump Stiles simply to have dignity with the pack? And the idea of dumping Stiles, that required them actually dating, and he wasn't sure where Stiles stood on that.

"Earth to Derek," Stiles said.

"What?" He hadn't even realized Stiles was out of the shower, much less talking to him.

"I asked you whether I look good in this outfit."

Derek's eyes roamed Stiles, and of course he looked good, because he looks good in everything. "Yeah, you look great. It'd look better on the floor, but you look great."

Stiles laughed. "Thanks. We should go. It's seven hours, right?"

Derek nodded. They grabbed their stuff, checked out, and piled into Derek's car.

"By the way," Stiles said, "I meant it. Last night."

"Me too."

Stiles reached across and grabbed Derek's free hand. It felt so natural to hold his hand, as if Stiles' hand was created to fit in Derek's. They spent most of the drive holding hands, and Derek no longer cared if people thought they were dating in restaurants. Because they were dating. Stiles was his boyfriend.

The meeting with the wolf pack went well; none of them dared touch Stiles, because they could tell Stiles was Derek's mate. He learned some new tactics on defense against the Alpha pack. They stayed in New York for another day and then started the long drive home.


End file.
